


Adjustments

by JayKay (McKay)



Series: Young Jinn [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 06:25:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10916160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/JayKay
Summary: Young Qui-Gon has to get used to life with his new Master, and it's not as easy as he thought it would be.





	Adjustments

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2000.

Qui-Gon sighed with quiet satisfaction as he settled a pillow  
more comfortably behind his back and drew his knees up, lounging  
on his bed and getting ready to lose himself in a study of ancient  
lightsaber construction and dueling techniques. He had been fascinated  
by the elegant weapon ever since the first time he'd been allowed  
to hold one, and he'd devoured everything he could find on the  
subject of lightsabers, their history and usage. Perhaps he was  
still battling his own gracelessness, but that didn't alter his  
love of the weapon or his desire to wield it. Lightsaber practice  
was really one of the only aspects of physical training that he  
enjoyed. He'd happily spend hours practicing--but otherwise, he'd  
rather be meditating, reading or simply thinking about thing she'd  
recently learned or read, mulling over the details and implications.

Unfortunately, he thought with a little scowl, his Master appeared to be the physical sort. She was forever dragging him off to endless hikes through simulated swamps or deserts or some other horrendous landscape. She called it "terrain mobility training." 

He called it pure torture. 

If he wasn't being put through that hellish wringer, then it was a gamut of exercises--scaling walls, shimmying up poles, balancing on thin wires--that were not only tedious but unnecessary. He'd been through the flexibility and agility training long before he'd been chosen; all he really needed now were short, regular sessions to maintain his current level of ability. _Not_ daily, hours'-long drills that would bean insult even to the seven-year-old apprentices. By the time she released him for the day, he was too physically exhausted to read or unwind in one of the meditation gardens as he longed to do. All he could manage was to clean up and collapse in bed only to start all over the next day. But mercifully, she had a meeting with some of the other Masters that day, giving him a few hours of peace and quiet. 

He bit his lip, frowning a little; he hated to think unkindly of her. After all, if it hadn't been for his Master, he would have been sent away from the Temple by now, his thirteenth birthday being nearly a month gone by. Still, he couldn't help feeling that they were completely wrong for each other, and he despaired of ever connecting with her the way Mace and Iain had connected with their Masters. His friends had been chosen by Masters who were much like their Padawan in temperament, and they had already begun forging strong mental bonds. 

Qui-Gon, on the other hand, found himself shying away from mental contact with his Master; she was so energetic and active, and she tired him out just by being around her. He supposed he harbored an irrational fear of having his mental energies drained away as well if he opened up to her. 

The most troublesome thing, however, was he didn't feel safe in telling her that he was miserable. From what he'd learned from other Padawan, each Master had his or her own unique way of teaching. Who was he to tell HIS Master that she was doing it all wrong? Apparently her methods had worked for her other apprentices. Her approach simply didn't suit HIM. Yet he had no choice but to remain with her if he wanted to become a Jedi Knight since no other Master had wanted him. _That_ had been made abundantly clear before he had been chosen. 

So it was his Master or nothing. And no matter how desperately unhappy he was, he wasn't about to risk his dream of becoming a Jedi. He would simply have to find a way to face each ordeal as it presented itself and hope that things eventually got better. 

~*~*~ 

Master Yaniko deliberately slowed her pace as she approached her quarters, tension knotting in her stomach as she thought of the young Padawan within. No matter how hard she tried to connect with the boy, she repeatedly failed, and her frustration was mounting. 

The last couple of months since she'd chosen him, she'd done nothing but try to give him what she thought he would want and need as part of his training. Her first two apprentices had been female, so she felt as if she were at a great disadvantage, which wasn't helping. It also didn't help that she seemed to have a knack for choosing apprentices who were her complete opposites, and as a result, she had never experienced a close Master-Apprentice bond. 

The first Padawan she trained had possessed great Force potential and a strong ability to see possible future paths. However, the young woman had also been extremely active, flighty, and disinclined to study or engage in much deep thought. Meditation was a necessity to be endured, not a pleasure as it was for Yaniko, whose strength lay in her attunement with the living Force. She had tried to teach her first student as she herself had been taught, relying on her own strengths and talents. 

They had both been utterly miserable. 

As a result, Yaniko had changed to accommodate her apprentice's needs, which meant she still felt miserable because the new lessons forced her to act more and think less, but at least she no longer felt as if she were failing her Padawan. And then she managed to make a similar choice the next time: great potential but another personality that clashed with her own. 

Again, she had to adapt--and she had vowed to stop taking on apprentices. A promise to herself that she had fully intended to keep since it meant she had time to read and meditate in peace without having to wonder how best to occupy a bored and restless Padawan. But there had been something about this boy... 

A boy! she thought with a silent groan. Two energetic young girls had been bad enough. At least she understood the female mind, but a boy...She had never shared quarters with a male of any age at any time in her life. Her lovers had been few and far between, and the relationships had never lasted long enough to any sort of permanent arrangement. She had no idea what young boys wanted or needed. All she knew of them was what she had seen at the Temple. The young men there tended to be loud, exuberant, boisterous, spilling over with energy. 

Sighing as the doors to her quarters slid open, she glanced around, half-expecting the place to be a shambles; it was the first time she had left him alone there, and she had heard horror stories from other Masters about young men and their typical slovenliness. But everything was just as she had left it, and she thought briefly about his room, how meticulously kept it was, wondering if he were orderly by nature or if he kept his room tidy out of apprehension of her reaction if he did not. 

That was another problem, she mused. She always got the feeling he was both tiptoeing around her to keep her happy with him while simultaneously keeping her at a distance. With every day that passed, she could feel the walls between them growing taller and wider. 

Just then he stepped out of his room, probably having sensed her presence, a curious look on his face. Was that a flicker of disappointment in his eyes when he saw her? Probably. 

Why in the name of all the small gods had she chosen him? Silly question. She knew why. As with her previous two students, she had sensed great potential within him. Greater, perhaps, even than theirs. For whatever reason, no other Master had wanted to choose him. Probably because of his awkwardness--which he would grow out of but which made early training difficult--and his willful streak. _That_ had been very much in evidence when he had dared to stand up and announce he didn't intend to fight in the Battle Arena because he thought it was unfair. To some, this was probably seen as evidence that he was rebellious, too independent-minded to adapt to the rules. 

To Yaniko, it was a refreshing change. 

She knew her idea that rules were sometimes meant to be broken wasn't a popular one. There were far more staid, conservative minds in the Temple than freethinking ones. But she couldn't nurture that independent spirit the boy possessed if she couldn't connect with him... 

~*~*~ 

"Good evening, Master." Qui-Gon strove to maintain a quiet, respectful tone as he addressed her, hoping his dismay at her early return hadn't shown. He had hoped for just an hour or two more... 

"Good evening, Padawan." Master Yaniko nodded, but she said nothing more; instead she simply stood there, watching him, her expression closed and unreadable. 

He resisted the urge to shift his weight or scuffle his feet under her intense scrutiny, a little coil of anxiety wrapping around his stomach. Had he done something wrong? Said something wrong? Worse--had she sensed his true feelings about her? 

"The meeting went well, I hope?" he asked politely, struggling to come up with something--anything--to say that would break the awful silence between them, but that sounded completely inane even to his own ears. 

"Very well," came the terse response. "Much was accomplished, but..." She broke off suddenly, narrowing her light blue eyes as she continued to stare at him. "It would seem I have a few matters to attend to in my own home now." 

He froze, feeling his own eyes growing wide with alarm. What did she mean...? 

"Pack your bags." 

His entire body turned ice-cold, and he could feel the blood draining from his face. Gods...He'd done it... Somehow he had messed up so badly that she was repudiating him...What happened? What had he done? Was there any way he could fix it...? 

"We're going to Ridel III," she added, and he nearly collapsed with relief; she wasn't getting rid of him after all... 

Hiding his shaking hands in the sleeves of his robe, Qui-Gon bowed respectfully and retreated into his room to pack as she had ordered; he didn't know much about Ridel III except that it was known for its lush terrain. Why she wanted to go there was beyond him. Another training mission? he wondered. Perhaps she planned to make him navigate the entire planet on foot. But whatever the reason, he wouldn't question or complain; she wasn't releasing him, and that's all he cared about. The rest he would find a way to deal with. 

~*~*~ 

Yaniko sneaked a sidelong glance at her Padawan as he followed a pace or two behind her up the steep mountain path on one of Ridel III's many wilderness retreats. The planet was a popular place among Jedi, not only because it was close enough to Coruscant for Masters to take their students for a short training session on outdoor survival, but also because it offered many challenges for those who liked keeping fit through hiking, swimming, or mountain climbing. 

She had thought--hoped--that spending a few days in a relaxed, informal setting would help matters, especially since this particular setting was ideal for venting all that youthful energy. It was well into the afternoon of their first day, and she already felt on the verge of collapse after spending the day hiking briskly along trails on a small but scenic mountain range; she was calling on the last dregs of her strength, bolstered by the support of the Force to keep herself going when all she really wanted to do was set up camp back at that gorgeous waterfall they had passed what felt like a million hours previously. 

Meanwhile, his expression was one of utter complacency--which told her right there something was wrong. Complacency and this young man did _not_ go together. She had sensed a restlessness in him when they met which told her he would spend a lifetime pursuing whatever personal mission his soul took hold of. Peace, he might have. But complacency? Never. He would never be satisfied with being merely content. So for him to show what amounted to resigned acceptance now meant that he was probably miserable--again. 

Was he not happy here? Surrounded by all the space he could need or want to run around in? Yaniko felt a muscle twitch in her cheek as she clenched her teeth. Was there no pleasing the boy? 

She had thought he would've been thrilled when she had led him proudly to the foot of the mountain, presenting the rugged terrain they would be conquering with a grand sweep of her arm. It was, she had thought, something that would get his youthful blood stirring. Instead, he had slowly lifted his eyes to the top of the mountain, his expression that of one who faced impending doom rather than an exciting adventure. He had swallowed hard, closing his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, he had been wearing that look of serene acceptance. No hint of gratitude or anticipation. Just that maddening emptiness. 

She had failed again, she realized, a sick knot forming in her stomach. She didn't know how or why, but somehow, she'd failed him again. And the elements weren't helping. 

What had started out as a pleasant morning had turned into a sweltering afternoon with a humidity that seemed to get higher the longer they hiked. She could feel her tunic clinging to her body in growing damp patches beneath her robe, and sweat trickled in steady rivulets down her face, back and stomach. The air was so thick and close that it made breathing an effort, but the worst thing was that she strongly suspected all the humidity was merely a warning of a gathering storm. The sky was looking dubious in that respect, and she just knew with her luck they'd be caught in a torrential downpour. 

Yaniko sneaked another look at her Padawan; if it were possible, he'd gotten even more remote. Outwardly, he appeared to be perfectly obedient and satisfied; he didn't even grumble about the heat. Or the bugs, she thought with a grimace, slapping at a bloodsucker on her cheek. That alone was most unusual in one his age, who tended to be full of complaints and weren't shy about voicing them. 

A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky, and she silently groaned. Perfect. Just perfect. 

With a resigned sigh, she began scouting around for a likely campsite, and when one came into view at last, she stopped and shrugged out of her pack, massaging her own shoulders with a grimace. She'd been out of the field way too long, and the aches and pains she now suffered were taunting reminders that she wasn't as young and spry as she used to be. 

"Shall I light a fire, Master?" 

Without looking at him, she shook her head, pretending to focus on unloading her pack. How many times had she heard apprentices address their teachers by that formal honorific, and how many times had she heard their tone turn it into an endearment? It was not so coming from her apprentice. Rather, he used it to reinforce the walls between them. 

"Put up the tents," she ordered tersely as she knelt on the ground and began pulling things out, setting them carefully aside. "We don't need a fire. I brought a..." She scrounged through her pack, frowning slightly. "I brought..." Her digging grew more frantic as the item she sought failed to appear. Finally she rocked back on her heels and looked up at Qui-Gon hopefully. "I gave you the power generator to carry, right?" 

His blue eyes widened, and he shook his head slowly, his expression one of regret. "No, Master. You didn't." 

Scrubbing her face with one hand, she sighed and stood up, straightening slowly so as not to strain her aching muscles anymore than they already had been that day. "Then yes," she said wearily. "Light a fire." 

~*~*~ 

Qui-Gon cracked his eyes open, waiting patiently for them to adjust to the darkness. The rain had stopped, and he assumed it was the absenceófinallyóof the steady plopping of raindrops on the roof of his tent that had awakened him-- 

\--Or perhaps it was that odd ripping noise that had alerted him. 

His sleepy brain barely had time to process the implications, barely had time to spur his sluggish body into action, trying desperately to untangle himself from his bedroll and get out of the tentójust a little too late. 

The roof of the tent, which had been collecting water, ripped at the seams, dousing him from head to toe right before the entire thing collapsed entirely. 

Shaking himself like a finicky wet cat, he crawled out of the ruins of his tent, resentment seething deep in his chest. If this was his Master's idea of "fun," this was going to be a long apprenticeship. 

Roused by all the commotion, Master Yaniko peeked out of her own tent, her pale blue eyes growing wide with surprise as she took in his bedraggled appearance. Slowly she slid her gaze over to his tent, and her jaw fell slightly. 

"What happened?" 

Qui-Gon stared at her silently for a moment, taking in her warm and snugly dry tent, knowing she had probably been sleeping soundly because she _liked_ this sort of idiotic venture into the wilderness. Meanwhile, he was standing there in soaked clothes that clung to him, chilling him to the bone and dripping to boot, his short hair sticking up in spiky, matted clumps, his bedroll also soaked and probably ruined. Resentment bubbled up into his throat, but he was determined to keep his attitude respectful. 

Before he could answer, however, the tsara appeared. 

With a gasp of dismay at the sudden appearance of a massive, shaggy beast, he reached for his lightsaber, but Master Yaniko lifted her hand in a warning gesture and whispered, "They're not dangerous unless they're provoked. Just remain calm and still." 

He froze, watching the creature lumber around their camp, snufflingóuntil it zoned in on their food supply. With a grunt that Qui-Gon could only translate as animalistic pleasure, the tsara began riffling through their supplies, and he let out an indignant yelp. 

"That's our _food_!" he cried, feeling helpless as he watched the beast happily munch on their supply of fruit. 

Master Yaniko gave him a long, level look. "Yes, I know. What would you have me do? Engage the creature in diplomatic negotiations for the last piece? Or should I simply arm-wrestle him for it?" 

"But--but--it's eating our food!" 

Dismayed, he gaped at the tsara until it had eaten its fill and wandered back into the woods again. An arduous hike up the mountain, being torn away from his studies, caught in the rain, having water dumped on him, and now this. It was just too much. Whirling to face his Master, Qui-Gon clenched his hands into fists at his sides. 

"You want to know what happened?" he cried, all the anger and frustration that had built up inside over the past few months bursting forth in one torrential flood. "This whole disaster of a trip is what happened! I'm cold, I'm wet, I'm going to be hungry now that thing has eaten most of our food, and I want to go home! I hate this place, I hate climbing mountains, and I hate--" 

_...being your Padawan._

He bit off the words before he could say something that would forever hang between them, but Master Yaniko looked at him as if he'd just slapped her, and he knew he didn't have to say the words: she'd heard them after all. 

"I thought," she said quietly, not quite looking at him, "you would enjoy this." 

"No!" he exclaimed, still too angry and miserable himself to be kind. "I'd rather be reading or meditating, but if I _must_ be dragged all over this nightmare of a planet, then why couldn't we have camped someplace peaceful like near that waterfall we passed?" 

For a long moment, Master Yaniko just stared at him, incredulity blooming in her eyes. And then she began to laugh. 

Qui-Gon wasn't one to lose his temper quickly or easily, but when he did... 

He wanted her to suffer as he had suffered; he wanted her to be as uncomfortable and unhappy as he was, and there was only one way his anger-fogged mind could come up with. 

The Force-flung mudball smacked her right in the face, the impact causing her to stagger backwards, enough to make her lose her balance, slip in the wet grass, and fall into a large mud puddle close behind her. 

The sight of her falling ignominiously on her backside and getting drenched in mud brought Qui-Gon back to his senses quickly enough; an icy hand clenched his heart as he realized he might have just terminated his own apprenticeship. He wouldn't blame her; this certainly wasn't the sort of respect a Padawan was expected to show his or her Master! 

Master Yaniko struggled to get to her feet in the slippery mud, and when she was finally upright again, he noticed she was favoring her left leg a little, and when she tried to put some weight on it, she grimaced with pain. He groaned silently, contemplating just turning around and walking out of camp now. 

Flinging mud? Yelling at his Master? Causing personal injury? 

It was the Agri-Corps for him as soon as they got back to the Temple. 

He lifted his eyes slowly, hesitant to look at his Master, dreading to see the censure on her face, the disapproval--perhaps even dislike--he knew would be there. When he finally dared to meet her gaze, he was surprised to see that she wasn't scowling at him. Quite the contrary, she looked amused, as if she were going to start laughing again, and he stood there, just watching her, bewildered by this turn of events. 

Then without warning, he took the full brunt of a glop of mud right in his face immediately followed by another in the middle of his chest. Some of the goop slid down the neckline of his tunic, oozing down his chest and leaving a trail of cold slime along his bare skin. 

"M-Master?" He wiped the muck from his face, slanting a wary look at heróonly to take another mudball. 

"Come, my Padawan," she called, a teasing note in her voice. "Get it all out. Release your anger, and then we'll talk." 

Release his anger--? What did she--? 

Another mud-missile, this one ending up in his hair, making it even more matted. 

Hesitantly, he reached out with the Force and picked up a pile of sludge, letting it dangle in mid-air. Master Yaniko gestured, a taunting little "come on" wave of her hand as if daring him; still he did nothing, wondering if he were only digging himself deeper into trouble, but a fourth mudballóanother direct hit in his faceóhelped him decide he didn't care. 

He hurled his own missile at her, tracking her when she dodged at the last minute; rather than let it splatter uselessly against a nearby tree, he maintained control, causing it to swerve and hit her from behind. A volley of mudballs followed from both sides of the clearing, both of them dodging behind trees and rocks to avoid being hit in their impromptu live target practice session. 

By the time it was over, he was breathless and panting, but even as his body registered fatigue, his spirit felt lighter than it had in ages. Anger and resentment were gone, released into the Force. 

Master Yaniko moved to the center of their ruined campsite, bracing her hands on her hips, barely recognizable as the tall, dignified woman he was accustomed to seeing, hidden beneath a thick coating of mud. "Now then," she said quietly. "We'll get cleaned up and then we'll talk." 

~*~*~ 

They had gathered up their belongings and hiked back to the waterfall, intending to bathe in the pool that had collected at its base. Once there, Master Yaniko had instructed him to go ahead and wash the mud from himself and his clothes while she sorted through their packs to see what was still salvageable. 

It was one of the few instructions she'd given him that he didn't mind obeying instantly. He wished he'd had time to linger at the edge of the pool, but he knew she was just as filthy as he had been, so once he was dry enough to wriggle into his clean tunic and leggings, he hurried back to the new campsite so she could have her turn. 

"I'll summon you when I'm done," she told him as she headed off towards the waterfall, and he felt a tight ball of anxiety form in his stomach. 

Not only was that an indication they were going to have A Serious Talk, but he also had to keep his mind somewhat open to her in order for him to hear her mental call, and that always worried him. 

But when she called him and when he arrived at the pool once more, he was surprised to see her sitting calmly on the grass in an attitude of meditation; her eyes were distant and unfocused, but obviously she sensed his presence nonetheless because her gaze sharpened somewhat, and she gestured for him to sit down. Puzzled, he settled on the ground a safe distance away from her, watching and waiting for her to initiate the conversation, but she merely drifted away again. 

He frowned, thrown off balance by this turn of events. He'd expected sharp words and recriminations, or at the very least a scolding for his rudeness. Was she so angry that she had to meditate to calm herself so she wouldn't lash out at him too much? 

_Relax._ Her mental voice carried a hint of amusement. _You wanted to be here, so _be_ here._

He blinked, startled, then nodded, shifting so that he was in his own preferred position for meditation. Focusing on his breathing, he let go of his worry, let go of his questions and immersed himself in the peace of Now. Around him, he could hear the soothing roar of the water as it spilled down the mountainside and into the pool below, could hear birds twittering at each otherÖThe scent of wildflowers was strong but pleasant, and he breathed it in deeply, accepting it as part of this place, this moment. 

_Good, my Padawan, but you can go deeper._

_How?_ The mental question escaped him before he quite realized what he was doing, and he barely restrained himself from flinching. He'd never opened his mind up to her any more than he absolutely had to. 

_I can teach you,_ she replied calmly. _But it will take trust._

Qui-Gon hesitated, knowing they'd somehow stumbled upon a turning point in their relationship. Depending on how he responded now, they might be able to forge a bond as he'd always dreamed of having, or they could break even farther apart. The question was, did he dare open up and trust her now after all the problems they had had? Why should he put all that aside just because they'd flung a few mudballs at each other? 

He thought back to her reaction to his angry words; now that he was able to be objective, he realized that it was a puzzling reaction in many ways. Instead of being furious, she'd burst out laughing. And the look on her faceÖHad that been relief? Could it be that she hadn't enjoyed all the hiking and other physical activity anymore than he had? She certainly seemed at peace here. 

His mind wandered back to the day she had chosen him, and he remembered how proud he had been; that first day had been idyllic. Everything he sensed about her told him that they would be a good match as Master and Padawan. Later, he came to doubt his own perceptions, but now he had to wonder if perhaps his first impressions were the right ones after all. 

But even if he were wrong and she really was the hearty, "let's run ten miles for fun" type that she'd appeared to be all these weeks, part of him didn't care. He wanted peace between them; he didn't want to spend his apprenticeship at odds with his own Master, and he certainly didn't want to be released. 

Taking in a deep breath and bracing himself, he took a leap of faithóand lowered his mental shields, reaching out to connect with her. 

Almost immediately, he felt a warm, comforting presence brushing against his mind, not intruding, still waiting for acceptance which he gave. 

_This is my Master..._ he thought, a sense of wonder growing as he felt the serenity she exuded. 

Her mind was tranquil, her thoughts flowing like the water down the mountain, and she was allowing him to see much, including her own affection for him, a bond she had felt with him the day they met but which had been weakened since then by the distance they'd both cultivated from each other. In return, he let her see that the initial bond had been mutual, but he too had felt it weaken by the constant misunderstandings. 

_I want to learn, but I don't feel I have been taught anything._ The thought formed in his mind and was transferred to her before he could censor himself, but rather than take offense, she offered a comforting mental caress in return. 

_We will start over,_ she told him. _This time, we will work together. I was wrong, little one,_ she added softly. _I assumed things about you and what you needed in your training based on what I knew from my other apprentices. But you are different._

_I don't like being quite so... active,_ he ventured shyly, hoping he wasn't being too presumptuous, but her mental laughter assured him he wasn't. 

_Nor do I._ Her voice sparkled with mirth. _It was a nightmare, and I'm glad we've awakened from it. From now on, you will have time to read and meditate as you wish._ She paused, then added, _And so will I._

A quiet joy bloomed within his chest, spreading warm tendrils outward, adding a deeper level of pleasure to his meditation. He hadn't been wrong after all. 

_Now for your lesson, Qui-Gon._ With that, the almost maternal affection lacing her voice changed to a briskness that let him know whatever followed was serious business. 

~*~*~ 

Hours later, Yaniko worked quietly side-by-side with Qui-Gon as they packed up their things, preparing to return to the Temple. "After all," she had said after she'd concluded the lesson by the water, "neither of us really want to be here." 

He had responded beautifully to the lesson she had taken him through in connecting with his surroundings; his natural empathy was already strong, and he was unusually advanced in meditation, making it easy for him to follow her guidance. He had slipped into the Now, immersed himself in the moment far easier than she had done on her first attempt, and the pleasure on his young face when they had eventually drifted back to the world had been one of the greatest rewards she had ever been given as a teacher. 

Afterwards, she had asked direct questions about his interests, about what he felt were his strengths and weaknesses at this point. To her delight, she had realized that finally her Padawan's affinities matched her own: the living Force rather than the unifying Force. This would help her immensely in shaping his future training, and it would make teaching him much easier for her because they would understand each other's perspective. 

Since their talk, she had seen his small, shy smile directed at her more than she had during the entire time he had been her apprentice. Finally she knew what he wanted and needed; finally his training could begin in earnest. 

When everything was cleaned and packed up, she hesitated before shrugging her backpack on, moving to stand in front of him instead. Impulsively, she smoothed her hand over his short, spiky hair and ran his braid through her fingers, pleased by the closeness established between them that let her feel comfortable enough to show her affection. 

"You have learned more than one lesson here today, I think," she said somberly. "Remember it well, my Padawan. The reason you had such an outburst was because you bottled your feelings up rather than expressing or releasing them. Trapped in that manner, they had no choice but to explode somehow. If it had not happened today, it would have happened some other time in some other fashion than flinging mud at me." 

"I'm sorry." Qui-Gon bowed his head, a pink stain appearing in his cheeks, but she cupped his chin in her fingers and lifted it so he had to meet her gaze. 

"Learn from this and grow," she told him, her tone firm. "No matter what sort of repercussions you may fear, the damage to you will be greater if you hold your emotions in rather than dealing with them and then letting them go." 

"I'll remember, Master." He nodded resolutely, then offered another little smile which she answered with one of her own; once more he addressed her with the formal honorific, but this time--this time, his tone was different. No longer remote, his voice was respectful but laced with warmth as well. 

"Come along then." She caressed his cheek gently, then turned to retrieve her pack, settling it onto her shoulders; it was still heavy, but it didn't feel like as much of a burden as it had when they began this trip. "Let's go home. I've got some texts I'd like to show you. I think you'll like them." 

With that, she began the hike back down the mountain to the docking bay where their shuttle awaited them, but this time, Qui-Gon didn't trail along far behind her, taking his place by her side and a little behind instead in the traditional way of Padawans--right where he belonged.  



End file.
